When did you last giggle?

Whilst it’s soon the tough anniversary of losing the man I considered to be my step-father; I am reminded of his zany humour. We’d chat frequently throughout the day, and his extended phrase to me was: “When did you last giggle, burp and fart?”

He was a huge fan of Spike Milligan, and like the great comedian, also had a challenging life.

Yet, Malcolm always made plenty of room for laughter, and he was refreshingly unbothered by what people thought of him. He had a joyous zest for life, and evoking giggles, was his main mission.

Can you imagine the postman’s expression, when he delivered me a plank of wood, that he’d styled like a postcard. The message in his trade-mark, much- cherished marker pens; on a piece of wood a couple of feet long: including a dozen glued-down postage stamps!

Birthday cards were typically hand-made: a crudely bent piece of cereal box, with his smiley-face squiggle signature. He’d also send me random teabags, with no letter, and more often than not, he’d include newspaper cuttings, that he knew would peak my interest.

He was not a wealthy man in terms of money, yet he’d frequently send me lotto tickets. On the occasions that we won, then I’d post him half the winnings, and we’d both be delighted with the few pounds we may have won.

We dreamed of buying a farmhouse, it could house his many transient possessions; he gave most of them away, deeming others’ more needy than himself.

I’m not sure what became of the partial airplane, which for years monopolised his old front garden. But I recall asking him why he kept it, and his answer was: “just to amuse people”.

In his last flat, where he’d be the receiver for cheese, which he insisted that I should post to him; it lay bare his modest lifestyle. It was predominately books, and on every subject imaginable. He had a terrific intellect, that he deliberately played down.

He also had a huge blackboard, he’d painted an entire wall in special paint to emulate a class-room; and he actively encouraged, his many visitors to scribble down their thoughts. He was midst teaching a friend English when he passed away…

Malcolm judged nobody, he saw the good in everybody, sharing his time with all and sundry.

Apart from his cheese, marmite and marker pens, everything else that he’d once owned was given to the: “more needy”. He was happy to simply survive on a modest pension.

Whilst I miss him terribly, and his stock answers of: “Hooray” and “Sausages” to most questions: his penchant for daily giggling continues to make the sun shine in me forever.

Perhaps why I like to share my SUNNY wishes with you!

 

Emma x